


Plush Giraffe Perturbations

by jaxstronomy



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles X
Genre: AI Shenanigans, Established Relationship, Gen, Several dozen or at least two giraffes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxstronomy/pseuds/jaxstronomy
Summary: She was just pouring herself a cup of barely-translucent office coffee when she faintly heard Steve saying her name, directing someone towards the break area. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Hey Rourke-”“Mina. What is a giraffe?”
Relationships: OC/OC
Kudos: 3





	Plush Giraffe Perturbations

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, did you know that AI research uses giraffes as an adversarial example? Giraffes in particular?
> 
> Credit to: my BFF's Cross and pretty-boy AI Rourke, all the people I asked for superficially remembered giraffe facts, kingddd for snagging the Division Drive layout for me so I could get the rumor transfer right, a few mentions of XCX community Crosses (Elysia, Esmeralda).

“Did you observe anything outside of expected parameters on this mission-” Rourke rolled his eyes and leaned on one hand with an exaggerated sigh. “Why do they even have this question on mission reports anymore?”

“Yeah, what even is ‘expected parameters’ on this planet? Flaming rain, boiling acid lakes, giant fuck-off dinosaur things...” Frye agreed, looking up from the blinking green cursor in their shared mission report file. “Might as well ask us something interesting for a change."

Rourke frowned at that. “Interesting? Dunno if I want to see ‘interesting’ out of Command.”

“Oh come on, could be a laugh. Something off the wall, like, I dunno…” He leaned back in his chair and kicked his boots up on the table. “How many giraffes did we see today?”

“One.” Rourke said, calmly and automatically.

Frye caught himself before he toppled backwards. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to the younger Interceptor’s sarcasm - that was the problem, really. Rourke sounded one hundred and ten percent convinced of that number, and as far as he remembered… yeah, scrolling up on the page, only scrapes and bruises on this mission. Nothing even close to head trauma. “One? You sure about that, buddy?”

Rourke looked nearly as confused as he felt. “What? Yeah, sure, one. Put it in the report.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy…” He settled back into his chair properly and lifted a hand over his mouth in thought. Yeah, something was just not adding up here, and although he wasn’t equipped to tackle this particular social-mental arithmetic problem, he knew exactly who was. “You know what, you go ahead, hit the showers, see if your lady’s back from her shift. I’ll file this if you pick up a round next time we’re at the diner.”

“Just one drink for paperwork? What’s the catch?” Rourke asked.

“No catch. Just doing you a favor.” Frye insisted.

“Um, ok, sounds great, see you then!” He bounded away, leaving Frye with their paperwork.

“ _Observation of a giraffe in Primordia?_ Damn, kid, this sounds more than a little crazy...” He deleted that line, looked up and around the area. Well, this wasn’t making it in their official mission report. Probably a little too much to hope that no one had overheard…

* * *

In Mina’s estimation, it was always a good shift when you got back to Division Drive before sundown, with plenty of daylight left to prep Reclaimed parts and materiel for inventory before filing final reports and getting a real evening off. If you were lucky, you’d even have time to talk shop with Steve and the NLA crew, hear some scraps of gossip, and take a real coffee break. 

She was just pouring herself a cup of barely-translucent office coffee when she faintly heard Steve saying her name, directing someone towards the break area. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Hey Rourke-”

“Mina. What is a _giraffe_?” He looked intensely serious, a strange juxtaposition with the simplicity of that question. 

Of course, she didn’t have a great answer for him. “Earth animal. Really big for Earth, but it would be on the small side here. Long neck, spots… I dunno, I saw them a couple of times in zoos?” She shrugged. “This about the rumors one’s been spotted in Primordia? Weird enough that I might even believe it, who’d lie about a giraffe of all things...”

“Mina, please, just - ask me how many giraffes I’ve seen lately.”

This wasn’t like him. He was agitated, subdued - not the usual firecracker force of nature she expected to intrude on her coffee break.  
  
“Wait, is that why you’re asking? Did _you_ see the giraffe in Primordia?” She ventured.  
  
“No! I didn’t!” He crossed his arms over his chest, face fixed in a pout. “Ask _how many_. It’s important.”

“Alright, alright…” Of all the stupid things she’d indulged Rourke in over the years, this was comparatively effortless, and it seemed to mean a lot to him. She leaned back on the break room table. “How many giraffes have you seen lately?”

“At least 1.5, probably three.”

“You’re fucking with -” she stopped, shook her head. That was far too automatic and missing a lot of the low-grade distress she’d been sensing since the beginning of their conversation. “No, not fucking with me. C’mere.” 

She extended a hand. His palm shook against hers. 

She led him back into a less-trafficked corner of the Reclaimers’ hangar, guided him towards a low crate with decent privacy and good sight lines, gestured for him to sit. It was slightly awkward, holding hands with the armor plates of their guards jutting at odd angles around their fingers, but she didn’t feel inclined to let him go. 

After a long moment spent tracing an abstract pattern into the top of the armor plate on his hand, she spoke. “So, what’s up with the giraffes?” 

He sighed. “No fucking clue, Mina - I mean, Frye was just making a stupid joke about questions to put on a mission report, and next thing I knew I was just saying ‘one’ because it made sense at the time? And just now, I gave that answer without thinking… I’ve never even heard of a giraffe before! Like, are they dangerous? Do they have razor-sharp fangs, or spit fire or acid or something?”

“Nope. Specialists in eating leaves off the tops of trees I think?” She looked up, biting her lip in thought, trying to pull any stray giraffe facts from the unused corners of her mind. “Really long tongues. Like, two feet long. I think I saw one kick the shit out of a lion in a documentary once.”

“The best thing you can come up with is long tongues?” Rourke looked slightly offended at that. “Man. Earth sounds boring.”

“Heaven forbid the world not be expressly designed for your entertainment.” Mina said, elbowing his side. He kissed her cheek, and she laughed. “You know, I could try to tease something out here. If you want to know more. Trust me?”

“Always. It’s why I looked for you when I realized what happened.” He got a distant look in his eyes, as if something just connected. “Why Frye wanted me to look for you when he realized what happened.” 

“He’s not a total birdbrain. Just acts the part.” She nodded. “So, how many Ovis have you seen lately?”

He groaned and rested his head against the wall behind them. “Too. Fucking. Many.”

She laughed. “Had to check, the day you stop complaining about Ovis-watching is the day I know you’ve been reprogrammed or wiped or something... How many moose have you seen lately?”

“What? What’s a moose?”

“Another Earth animal. Like… a small progen, but brown, and with really wide horns. Remind me to download some datasets for you… How many ostriches have you seen lately?”

“Does Frye count?”

“Nope. How many platypus have you seen lately?”

“Oh come on you’re just making shit up now-”

She pulled out her comm and flipped back through the camera roll, settling on a selfie he’d taken of them a few months back. “Clearly defined well-known subjects, crisp image, desaturated background… Rourke, what’s in this picture?”

“You saved that?” He blushed slightly. “Us, in Sylvalum. Might be an indigen leg in the distance over there… nah that’s one of those globe-tree things.”

“That’s my deep, dark secret, Rourke. I save _some_ of your selfies,” she said. “You know what I’m going to ask next. How many giraffes are in this picture?”

“Several dozen. Or at least two.”

Rourke looked horrified. It took all her willpower to bite back laughter, and even that couldn’t keep a choked grin from showing on her face. His face fell.

“Mina, I’m confused, and scared, and-” 

“Babe, I’m sorry, I know, and I don’t mean to - I’m not laughing at _you_ \- it’s just -” She covered her face with her hand, breathing deeply, trying valiantly to regain some sense of composure. “Why _giraffes?_ ” 

“Huh? What do you mean, why giraffes?” 

She took a few more stabilizing breaths, trying to will that unhelpful grin off her face. “Why giraffes _in particular_. It’s clearly a glitch, but only when you’re asked for a number of giraffes! And why giraffes and not zebras? Or dingoes? Or pangolins?”

“Yeah, still think you’re making all those up.” 

“Maybe so. Still.” She exhaled fully, leaned back against the wall. “It’s just absurd.”

“Heh, I guess.” He managed a smile. “And hey, as long as it’s only giraffes, I guess I don’t have to worry about giving false mission reports. Not like anyone ever asks about… wait. You said there were rumors…”

“Oh. Yeah. Apparently Steve heard it from Elysia who heard it from Esmeralda who heard it from another Interceptor but who knows if that’s a reliable source, probably not a big deal. Caught my attention because it was so oddly specific.”

“Ugh, Command’ll directly ask about giraffes now!” Rourke groaned. “Never gonna be able to file a report again…”

“Eh, it’s a rumor. I’ll get Steve to put me on some shifts that need escort, maybe see if there’s anything out in the Waters…” Mina stopped, pondered for a moment. “Huh, can giraffes swim? Never thought about that. Anyway. We’ll kill time, I’ll answer any official giraffe-related inquiries, they’ll realize it was just Division Drive rumor mill bullshit, things’ll go back to normal, it’ll be like giraffes never even existed.”

“Boring-ass long-tongued bastards.” 

Rourke made a show of sulking, and Mina laughed. 

“Let me finish my shift, then we’ll get you a drink.”

* * *

Well, Rourke did feel better now. He supposed. Maybe that was just the whiskey? Nah, probably not just the whiskey.

Mina was headed to the bar, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Jumping on a Waters shift to help him? She hated working Waters, had for ages, whatever he did to deserve her it couldn’t possibly have been enough - ugh, buzzed and sentimental again. She really needed to get back with the next round, ASAP.

One thing was still eating at him though. What, exactly, _was_ a giraffe? Probably not that threatening, if it couldn’t spit acid or breathe fire. Then again, “maybe saw kick the shit out of a lion”, so powerful legs? Yeah, probably buff as hell. And a long neck. So like a millesaur? Yeah. A spotty millesaur. But way smaller than a millesaur. A small, spotty millesaur with a long tongue. 

“Hey pretty boy, think fast!”

“Huh-” Rourke whipped his head around just in time for _something_ to hit him square in the face. “What the fuck-!” He fumbled, the soft and fuzzy projectile dancing in his hands.

Frye was framed in the door of the bar, right arm awkwardly crossed over his body in his best pitcher’s followthrough, shit-eating grin on his face. “Told you to think fast.”

“Seriously Frye, I’ll buy you your damn drink, you don’t have to chuck...” 

Rourke actually looked at the offending projectile. It was a plush toy, that much he was certain of, but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was supposed to represent. Mostly brown, some white, lots of angular spots that almost looked constructed. Long, tall, four legs, two sets of protrusions on its head… heh if he held it at the right angle it sort of looked like a dick - 

“... whatever this is at me.”

Frye’s smile hadn’t budged an inch. He slid into the booth next to him, clapped an arm around his shoulders. “C’mon, seriously? Not even gonna try to guess?”

Rourke stared blankly at the beady eyes of the toy. “Nope, coming up blank here.”

Another glass slid in front of him. 

“Guess I should have ordered three whiskeys.” Mina laughed. “Frye, where did you find a plush giraffe?”

“What?” Rourke turned the… giraffe? In his hands. This did not look like a millesaur at all. “This is a giraffe?”

“Sure as shit, pretty boy,” Frye said, “And after all the bullshit I went through today I thought, what the hell, why not see if there was one in the CD on the way here, and what do you know. Giraffe fastball.”

“Bullshit?” Mina said, raising an eyebrow.

“Aw, you know. The usual.” Frye nonchalantly reached over and took the giraffe. “BLADEs talk, just gotta give them something to talk _about_ , like how there’s a real spotty looking Progen tyrant up Headwater Summit.” 

“You went _tyrant hunting-”_ Mina looked intensely concerned, and he had to shove down a flash of jealousy.

“Didn’t say anything about that, boss,” Frye drawled, prodding at Rourke’s hands with the giraffe. “Thought to myself, maybe you can get a real distorted looking picture of it through a spotter scope like pretty boy here uses.” Poke. “One that makes the neck look _real long_.”

“Would you _stop that-_ ” Rourke snapped, making a valiant grab for the plush. 

Frye lifted it just out of his reach and grinned. “Nope. Not till you buy me that drink.”

“Boys. Behave.” Mina said, grinning into her bourbon.

“Yes ma’am,” Frye smirked, shoving Rourke back into his seat. “Anyway, that pic should be getting around FrontierNav anytime now.” Poke. Poke. “Boom. Giraffe.”

Mina lifted a hand to her chin, looking honestly impressed. “Have to hand it to you, birdbrain. That’ll throw a wrench in the rumor mill…”

“Yeah, thanks- ok, _stop poking me_ -” Rourke grabbed the plush and ripped it out of Frye’s hands. “Why go through all that trouble for me, though?”

“So I could bean you with a giraffe and still hit you up for that drink guilt-free?” he laughed. “Nah, you know why. ‘Cause I look out for my team. And my two best drinking buddies.” 

“Fine, fine, I get it.” Rourke drained his glass and grinned. “Thanks, Frye. This one’s on me.”


End file.
